


Lions, Witches and WarRobes

by TigerShark



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Traditions, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerShark/pseuds/TigerShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is reposted after editing. Please refrain from annoying the author with comments on grammar, spelling, tenses or what have you. Its free, its fanfic. Enjoy it or go away.</p><p>Commentors:<br/>It is not in my nature to respond to most comments unless asked a direct and specific question. You might have more luck corresponding with me directly on livejournal via tigershark666. I do thank you for your comments, like most authors it helps to convince me to continue writing.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is reposted after editing. Please refrain from annoying the author with comments on grammar, spelling, tenses or what have you. Its free, its fanfic. Enjoy it or go away.
> 
> Commentors:  
> It is not in my nature to respond to most comments unless asked a direct and specific question. You might have more luck corresponding with me directly on livejournal via tigershark666. I do thank you for your comments, like most authors it helps to convince me to continue writing.

If Gracie had not forgotten her clipboard that morning, the wizarding world as we will know it would have been a much different place.

However as Gracile Cockworth-Worthington bustled through the Muggle train-station in her severe navy blue muggle dress she realized with a sinking feeling that she had gone and left her clipboard on her table, where no doubt her kneazel Souci was happily sleeping on the parchments and shedding like a fiend.

Around her the various parents, teachers and other officials checked their lists or parcels, some with luggage trolleys at the ready as the train whistle sounded, just out of sight around the bend of the track and Gracile realized that she was just going to have to do this the hard way. Good thing she had done so well in Charms class.

She ducked behind a convenient pillar and pretended to rummage through her bag, and instead put her hand on her wand and transfigured a handkerchief into a clipboard and paper. An abbreviated circle of her wand and a muttered incantation 'Indicio Magical Children' and she was ready for her assigned task.

For Gracile was the unlucky witch sent out today from the Ministry to fetch the magical children evacuees, and send them along to Hogwarts or to St Mungos to be retrieved by their parents. The chaos and confusion of the muggle evacuees was a huge headache and this was the fifth train Gracile had met so far this week, with muggle, halfblood and some hidden wizard children being brought back from all over the countryside to be shipped out again to schools all over Britain.

The train entered the station with a screech of brakes, rattle of metal and a whoosh of cinders and smoke. The assembled adults gathered intently around the doors of the train as children slowly assembled their luggage and trickled out. Each adult started calling out childrens names or school names to attract their particular charges. Each child had a tag pinned or tied to their coat with their name and destination on it.

Thankfully, due to her quick charm Gracile can see a pale glimmer of light on each of her charges, magical children all being brought back to Hogwarts. Gracile called out 'Hogwarts! Hogwarts students here!'

Slowly a clump of students gathered around her. Each had a suitcase or trunk. Some even had owl cages perched precariously on top. The boys looked uncomfortable in muggle trousers and the girls kept smoothing down unaccustomed fluffy skirts. The current fashion for robes was smooth and sleek with slim skirts, so the current muggle fad for layered petticoats took some getting used to.

Scanning over the crowd for stragglers Gracile spotted four children together, all glimmering with her spell. The eldest, a tall blonde boy, was looking around the crowd and had his youngest sister firmly by the hand. “You four, over here. Hogwarts School.”

The boy frowned and looked down at his tag, squinting at the upside down letters.  
He led his siblings over “Pardon Ma’am, but I've another school down, I think.”

She looked at the boy's tag. Indeed it had another school on it, but since the tag had been written in Muggle biro she didn’t much count on its accuracy. “Must be a clerical error. Name?” She made a show of checking her clipboard with its blank piece of transfigured parchment.

“Peter Pevensie Ma'am. And Susan, Edmund and Lucy, by age.”  
“Quite right. Four for Hogwarts. Now come along children”, she turns and addresses the clump of children. “We're to meet the others that came in today. Step sharply now.”

Gracile herded the children away from the platform and into the station proper. A room had been set aside for Hogwarts children. Since only one train left for Hogwarts each year, the scattered students were being collected together in a Ministry hostel on Diagon Alley and in two days time would come back to Kings Cross Station to take the Hogwarts Express together.

There were several students already there, and Auror Morton was busily checking names off his list and handing them off to Healer Munroe for a fast scan under her busy wand, just to make sure the Muggles hadn't done anything too terrible.

Peter and his siblings hung back, looking at the busy adults in their long robes and the children chattering with each other and the pile of oddly assorted luggage adorned with owl cages. The girls slid quietly behind their brothers, and the elder girl half turned to watch the door. They reminded Gracile of nothing less than cautious aurors and she began to have a bad feeling.

“Ma'am? What are they doing?” Peter asked gesturing at the Healer.

“Just a quick health check young man. Nothing complicated, just weight, blood values, balance of temperaments, health of magic core, nutrition. Just making sure your time away hasn't been any trouble. “

Edmund’s fine black eyebrows shot to his hairline, before his face resumed smooth placidity. Peter's face was more controlled .

“I wasn't aware that magical health checks were common in England.” He brought one hand to his side, almost as if looking for something that wasn't there.

“Oh are you a foreign family then lad?” asked Auror Morton. He looked down at his list.

Unlike the parchment that Gracile had managed to forget at home (much to the enjoyment of her kneazel who has now chewed it up and wedged it under the bed) his list is a magically created listing of the persons in the room, neatly sorted by age. Most of the younger childrens names have been ticked off as accounted for.

“Lets see. That would make you Petrocles Peverell then? With your siblings Suzanna, Eddimonde and Lucinda.” He read from his list, running a gnarled finger along the names. “Oh pardon me, Heir-Lord Peverell. They do need to make those titles in larger writing.”

“My name is Peter Pevensie and I'm very much afraid you have made a serious mistake. We are not foreign, we're from Finchley.” His voice held an iron resolve that seemed strange in a boy of his age. His sister Susan, Suzanna? Was most definitely guarding the door now, and the littlest Lucinda was protectively sheltered between Edmund and Peter.

Gracile had a very bad feeling about this.

“Oh bother.” blurted Healer Monroe “I think I know what might ...” She raised her wand and flicked it at Peter incanting 'Memoratio Reveleo'. The spell however missed, since he suddenly dodged to the left, as Edmund dragged Lucy with him to the right. It did however hit Suzanna in the shoulder as she attempted to dodge and sure enough her head lit up a dull red.

“What have you cast on my sister, witch”, Peter demanded, blue eyes snapping with fury, stepping forward with one hand balled up in a fist. Edmund had Lucy sandwiched up against the wall, holding her with a white knuckled hand.

The quick movement had startled the Auror, who now held his wand trained on the four and the children at the other side of the room had scattered away from the action

“Whoa! Pacem young man! peace” Healer Monroe held her hands up and pointing her wand at the ceiling before laying it carefully on the table, carefully aligned horizontally to the children.

“That, young man was a simple charm to reveal whether or not you are under any sort of memory altering spell. Which you are.”

“Prove it. But slowly. And on that one.”, Said Edmund, his eyes narrowed, nodding towards Gracile.

“Go ahead Healer”, said Gracile slowly. “As far as I know I am under no memory charms, but then I wouldn't know if I was I suppose”, she laughed nervously.

“Thank you, Gracile 'Memoratio Reveleo'”, the healer spoke and flicked her wand at Gracile. A shimmer of blue surrounded her head and faded.

“You'll be glad to know, no memory charms.”

The children relaxed slightly.

“So Susan at least has had her memory enchanted. Su?”, He looked towards his sister.

Her face is drawn, and she seems thoughtful. “Well healing spells of course, and that thing with the swans, and various defensive enchantments oh and that week I headed the … that thing with the fish remember? But no, not any memory spells I'm aware of. And it seems unlikely that I could have had any spells cast on me in Finchley.”

“Wait a moment young lady. Do you think you are Muggles?”, at their blank faces the Auror continues “Non magical folk?”

“Ah. Yes. Completely non magical. But I presume because we are here, and you are here, that there may be something we were not aware of.” Peter said in a very measured way. Edmund is thinking madly of probabilities.

“If you are non magical, how and why have you had that much contact with magic? Its against the Decree you know.”, demanded Auror Morton.

Peter looked at Susan. Susan bit her lip and nodded. Lucy nodded at him right away, beaming. He looked at Edmund.  
“Well Peter if anyone is going to believe us, I think its this lot.”, Edmund said slowly.

Peter looks at Gracile, the Auror and the Healer, squares his shoulders raises his head and declares.

“I am Peter The Magnificent, High King of Narnia, Lord of the Fair Isles and Emperor of Narnia. My brother King Edmund Silvertongue, Queen Susan the Morning Star and Queen Lucy Fairhearted and I have reigned over the Land of Narnia for twenty years since we stumbled into it earlier this summer. Now you know almost as much as we do.”

“King?”, blurts Gracile

“Twenty years?”, says the auror, startled

“Did you say Narnia?”, said the Healer

“I did indeed. And now you say I am a Lord Petrocles Peverell, under a memory charm most likely. You can see how We are most confused.” Peter sounds calm, but judging by his ramrod stiff spine is anything but.

“Well I'll be blown over by a hippogryph”, Gracile said weakly and fell into a chair

Lucy giggles

“Ah there are hippogryphs here as well? I'm presuming hidden by wards or charms?”, said Edmund looking at the auror, head cocked.

“Yes young man. And I think that I need to alert the Head Auror and probably the Obliviators too. This is too big a mess for just us to sort out.”

Peter looks at the Auror. “I think I agree, presuming those are magical branches of government? In the meantime if your most excellent healer could check us, if there is a memory spell, they may well be more in addition.”

Auror Morton nods. “I will be back momentarily. Please do not be alarmed, several people may return with me, and I can see you've got excellent reflexes.” He turned on the spot and apparrated with a loud pop.

Edmund tensed and relaxed his face remaining calm and serene.

“Well then young King. Who would like to be examined first? I'll do a full range of what I can with what I've got on hand.” Healer Monroe smiled at the four siblings.

Peter silently contemplated her. “Susan I think, since you already started.” He looked towards Susan “Su?”

“Certainly Peter.”, Susan agreed, her voice even and controlled. She moved towards the healer, away from the door. Edmund shifted position so that Lucy was still behind him against the wall, but he could now see the door as well as face half the room. Peter watched the other half of the room.

Healer Monroe indicated the chair in front of her with a smile. “I'm going to start with some basic diagnostic charms for general health, and then some more advanced ones to detect any residue of charms, enchantments or potions.'

Susan nodded, large blue eyes grave and quiet. She settled gently on the chair facing the Healer.

“Excuse me Healer,' said Edmund slowly “ But you said 'did you say Narnia'. Have you heard that name before?”

She paused in her incantations, as a pink glimmer hit Susan and a small parchment appeared on the table.

“Yes. I did, didn't I? I've heard the name before, but I can't quite remember where. Quite some time ago I'd gather.”

“We're quite anxious to return to our kingdom you understand.” Said Peter, smiling charmingly. “But the method we used last time seems not to work now.”

“You've taken this well.” Edmund added. “I would have expected more …. fuss.”

“Well young man, I am a healer and I've seen quite a few odd things. Chances are you are under memory charms and since a simple identity spell gives us another name for you …. no way to say what is true and false until we've detected and undone all the spells on you. So in the meantime I'll treat you like any patient, no harm done. There's all sorts of odds and sods of old estates and buildings tucked away under unplottable charms, who's to say you haven’t found something like that?”

She looked back at Susan, and read over the parchment quickly. “Well young lady, so far I can tell you that you are … thirty one years of age, artificially de-aged to fourteen, under several memory charms, with a worrying list of old injuries and record of several unusual healing potions as well as some unidentified enchantments at least one of which was cast by a centaur. Now that's an interesting list right there.”

Susan's eyebrows raised. “I'm thirty?” She looked over at Peter. “That's almost how old I was when we left Narnia. Which means...”

“We were returned back to our original ages, and the time actually did pass as we felt it had in Narnia. Is that bad?”, Peter asked the healer.

“Well I'm not as worried about you two older ones, your magical cores and your bodies are close enough to get by. But the younger the body, with a mature magical core, the more problems. Young lady, Lucy? How have you been feeling since you returned?”

“Kind of … tired and headachey sometimes and then like I could stay awake for days and days and can't stand still. And my shoulder hurts, but I expect its where I got that bad break the once and its rainier here” Lucy explained, slowly.

“I think you'll be best served with an aging potion. Bring you up to 15 or so, same for you Edmund. ”

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Peter shied all over, like a horse, but didn’t move as the Auror and two more appeared in the room. Susan stood from the chair and returned to where Peter and Edmund were now watching the new arrivals with caution, Lucy tucked behind them. Lucy at this point was getting very tired of being short again, returning to being fifteen again sounded like a grand idea.

Without a word , the taller of the two new arrivals, a tall ice blonde man pointed his wand at Peter and spat “Finite Incantatum” it of course missed, since at the first movement of his arm the siblings had split away.

“Is it considered good manners to cast on strangers without asking, sir?” Peter asked, his lower tone level and coldly furious. “At the very least I would appreciate if you introduced yourself, unless of course you do mean me and mine harm. Then I'd be perfectly happy to attack you unknown.”

“Lord Malfoy!” the Auror barked “I told you to tread carefully.”

The blonde man slowly raised his wand again, deliberately aiming at Peter. “I am Lord Damien Malfoy, and I am going to cast a spell that will end most minor enchantments. I trust this meets with your approval? Whomever you are.” He sneered.

Peter relaxed mentally. 'A lord', he thought, 'Now this is a person I can understand.' “Well Lord Malfoy, it seems from what the good healer has told us thus far, that we are under at least one enchantment and possibly more. If nothing else his list”, he nods to Auror Morton, “Has different names for us than we had thought ours. But I fear a simple charm will not undo this.” The formal Narnian way of speaking came back to him naturally and seemed most suited for dealing with a Lord like this one.

Lord Malfoy drew one corner of his mouth up in a thin sliver of a smile. He cast “Finite Incantatum” directly at Peter. Nothing changed. Then again at Susan and Lucy and lastly at Edmund when something did change, his smooth face melted away and a long thin curving scar appeared down the side of his cheek.

“Ed, that little scratch of yours is back.” Peter noted out loud.

Ed raised his hand to his face “Ah. Well that's interesting. The Great Wyrm did say it would eternally mark me. Guess he meant it.”

“Well as you said Auror, that didn't do much, as I expected. So I think next the heredity potion, so we can verify some names.”, Lord Malfoy drawled as he returned his wand to its sheath by his side.

Peter stepped forwards “Thank you my Lord” he bowed, careful to keep it shallow, equal to equal. “We appreciate your assistance, We are most bewildered.”

Morton harrumphed and dropped a heavy satchel on the table. “Here's your kit Johns,” he said to the third man, a slight, watery- eyed redhead. 

“Thank you Morton.” the young man said softly. He sat down at the table, dragging the wooden chair over the uneven floor with a scraping noise.

“Now this is very simple. I have one parchment and one vial of potion for each of you. You each need to drop one drop of blood in the vial, and I will pour it onto the prepared parchment and activate the enchantment. The spell will read your bloodline for up to ten generations back.”, he took a breath as he laid the four sheets and bottles out in front of him.

“The spell will list names, birth names and marriage or adoption names for you and all ancestors listed. It will also indicate species, such as human, wizard, veela, legitimacy and all current titles and auspices due you by right of inheritance, conquest or what have you.”

Peter had the feeling he had said this speech several times before.

“I take it that heredity is often called into question?”, He asked as he stepped forward in front of one of the parchments.

“Clear heritage is very important for marriage contracts and of course verifying identity in cases such as yourself. There are some means to fool this potion, but it tends not to hold past three generations back. We will of course verify by locating listed living relatives and checking their results against yours.”

Susan, Edmund and Lucy step next to Peter as they had for many years. At this point the order is pure habit. Always from High King to youngest, Peter to Lucy.

“Does it have to be a specific knife to let the blood?” Asked Peter, hand already in his pocket.

“Oh no. Any knife or needle will do as long as the blood is fresh and untainted.'

Peter retrieved his penknife and watched from the corner of his eye as the other three did the same. It was not common for women in England to go armed, but after so many years in Narnia neither Lucy nor Susan would go without.

In unison they raised their left hands, and held the knife to the first finger of the right hands. With one practiced motion they gently pricked their finger, and let a single drop of blood fall into the vials. Each vial immediately turned a cloudy red which slowly deepened to a rich burgundy and then to an almost black.

“Very good! Now starting with you, one at a time please pour the potion on the parchment.”

Peter carefully poured his potion on the parchment. The potion puddled for a moment, Johns cried “Inscriptio Hereditatum” and the fluid suddenly soaked into the parchment and vanished.  
At the bottom appeared the name Petrocles Maximillian Malfoi Peverell (Peter Pevensie) Heir Lord Peverell, High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Sir Peter Wolf's-Bane.

A thin line snaked out to the right and started filling in with his siblings names as another branched upwards to add his parents names. 

The lines slowly wiggled up and up, branching and sprouting names as they went. The others performed the ritual and watch as the same tree was drawn for all four of them.

“Petrocles? Really?” Muttered Edmund quietly to Peter.  
“You hush 'Eddimonde'” Peter muttered back

“Malfoi? Any relation Lord Malfoy?”, Peter asked Lord Malfoy, head tilted inquisitively.

Lord Malfoi leaned over and examined the family tree that was forming on the parchment. With a single elegant ringed finger he indicated one name further down a higher up branch. Petrocles Peverell came from Heracles Peverell, who'se mother was born Emmanuelle Maude Malfoi. The Malfoi line went back to Montescue Malfoi, down to Bernard Malfoi, and then back to Damien Malfoy and his son Abraxas .

“That would be me there, it seems that your great grandmother is my missing great aunt Emmanuelle. Which would make us fairly close cousins, your Majesties. Answering one question has opened a great many more.” Lord Malfoy seems excited and eager, under the aristocratic disdain.

“Lord Malfoy, does the family tree on your section look accurate?” Asked Healer Monroe.

“Yes Healer. These certainly do appear to be the missing heirs. I'm sure the Family Tree at the Manor is updating as we speak. Which means a Gringotts owl is winging its way here even now. And I think that we should all proceed to the Ministry and get this sorted out. Great Aunt Manny disappeared with her family under very odd circumstances.”

Some fast explanations and the Pevensies plus a troupe of Aurors and Healers and poor Gracile were herded through the Floo and into a meeting room at the Ministry. The other children being met at the train were sent along to St Mungo's to be handled. At the Ministry a cluster of healers and mind healers gathered around each of the Pevensies to further examine the spell damage and decide on courses of treatment. More drops of blood were deposited into more potions and many more diagnostic spells were cast. The Pevensies remained outwardly calm and collected.

Meanwhile Auror Morton was attempting to find out how this entire mess had dropped in his lap. So much for an easy day shuffling schoolchildren around.

“Miss Cockworth-Worthington? May I asked how you found the Peverells? They certainly weren't on your list.”

Gracile can feel the fiery blush of embarrassment creeping its way up from under her collar. By the time she speaks he face is bright red. She mutters at her feet , “Iforgotmylist so I cast Indicio”

“Again, with breathing?” He asked with a smile

“I forgot my list so I cast Indicio”

“You cast Indicio to find all magical children? In that crowd? Gracious dear lady. Well I suppose that is one way to do it. And look what fish you caught in that net.”, he barked laughter. “Two Kings and two Queens, I'd say you had a full house.”

“Well with you sir I already have one Knave. Care to find me another?” Gracile spat suddenly irritated

Auror Morton guffawed loudly. “Sheathe your claws miss!” he held up his hands in a placating gesture.  
“It's just that you've succeeded in finding a bloodline which has been lost for a hundred years, by accident no less. And getting young Malfoy all in a pother, which is gratifying to my withered old heart, it really is. But it certainly defies belief.”

“And she very well may have found the path to the lost homeland of wizards ... the fabled kingdom of Narnia.”, announced a voice very gravely.


	2. Chapter 2

“Beg pardon?” Said Peter.

“I said my Lord, you are undoubtedly due to become Lord Peverell.” The goblin patiently repeated.

Peter frowned across the goblins desk at him. “If I'm to inherit now, then my father is dead?'

“Yes my lord. The tapestry clearly shows Heracles Peverell passed six years ago.” a single gnarled claw pointed at the name above Peter's.

“Which is interesting news, because we received a letter from Michael Pevensie at the front dated three weeks ago.” Peter tapped the name thoughtfully. “Which suggests to me that the man we thought was our father is not. I think we need to talk to mother.”

“Aurors have already been sent out to bring her here.” Lord Malfoy added from his comfortable chair, one of several, arranged in a loose half, circle in front of the goblins desk in his spacious office. “but as Evelyn Peverell also passed six years ago, its fairly likely she is not your birth mother.”

“I had reasoned as much Lord Malfoy, I can read.” Peter said, glancing coolly at the fair haired Lord.

Edmund broke in “But as she presumably raised us since Lucy was a toddler, it's likely she knows something. Even if she simply found us in a very large basket.”, He finished wryly.

“When Lucy was two, that would make me about nine I'd say. I'm fairly sure I should remember things before then. Can your spells create false memories?” Asked Peter thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“Be that as it may Garnok.” Malfoy started...

“Al Ter Ha'ak Garnok, Lord Malfoy.” Peter corrected. “Titles can be so important you know.” He tilted an imperious brow at Lord Malfoy and half smiled. Edmund smirked inwardly to himself. 'And thus starts Peters tit for tat game all over again'.

“G'nek mafer g'bled g'a-ak?” The goblin asked, gazing attentively at Peter.

“As fer han a'anad fen. But I've been told my accent is horrendous.” Peter commented.

“You speak a very old fashioned dialect my Lord. But not bad for a human.” the goblin barked laughter, showing many razor sharp teeth.

“Had to learn, to negotiate for mineral rights mainly. Most of the western marches had goblin h'hadans and dwarf keeps under half the mountain. Can’t chuck a stone without hitting somebody or others tribal lands.” Peter leaned genially on arm of his chair, stretching long legs out before him.

“Lord Malfoy. I may or not be your long lost cousin Lord Peverell, and I may or may not be a wizard. But I am a King, by right of arms and by the acclaim of my kingdoms. You might wish to contemplate that fact.” Peter finished by staring directly at Lord Malfoy's startled gray eyes.

Edmund spoke very quietly from directly behind Lord Malfoys chair.

“I was crowned king at less than twelve years of age. Lucy was eight. We held our kingdom against dangers without and within for twenty five years.”, his voice is low and conversational, but still, Damien Malfoy suppressed a shudder. Where Peter challenges like a brassy horn, Edmund insinuates shadows and sharp knives in the dark.

“My lord Peverell.” started Auror Morton, interrupting the moment. “You seem not all that worried about your mum not being your mum.”

“Well you have to remember Auror that as far as we count it, we lost mum getting on thirty years ago. We've grieved and accepted our loss and so losing her again, well.”, he shrugs.

“Well Peter, if she isn't our mum. And she and father watched over us for the last six years here ... that’s right after the Peverells died right?” Asked Lucy thoughtfully, turning from Peter to the Goblin and back.

“That's right Luce.” Said Peter

“So it's probably a pretty good chance that they were asked to look after us. You know, preserving the heir and all? Like that family of foxes up by Aslans Reach? Remember?”

“As I was saying” the goblin continued, bushy brows drawn together. “We have positive confirmation of your heritage by the way of the spells Lord Petrocles”

“Peter, please. That's going to take some getting used to” Peter waved offhandedly.

“Lord Peter. So it's a matter of signing some parchments and accepting the ring. I presume Eddimonde will receive the Heir's ring?”

“Male primogeniture is traditional?” Susan asked

“My apologies, yes my lady.”

“Oh I figured as much” she said “ Its not as if I want another title. We just know nothing of traditions among the British wizards.”

“That sticks you with it Ed. Sorry.” Smiled Peter

“You always give me the crap jobs Pete. I'm used to cleaning up your messes.” Edmund said cheerfully. “ssinassint yy ssisnt”

“Gah!” Exclaimed Peter “You know that snake language gives me the creeps Ed.”

“Of course I know Pete, why do you think I quote old silversides every chance I get?” he laughed.

Pete went as if to grab Ed to play wrestle, but Al Ter Ha'ak Garnok cleared his throat

“So Eddimonde is Heir Lord Peverell. Very good. Now as to the matter of claiming the accounts and rights of the sovereignty of Narnia....”

Peter raised his eyebrows “ Narnia has accounts at Gringotts?”

“Of course My Lord. The first account is the that of the founding clan of the bank.”

“Garnok”

“Indeed sir. The second account is that of the patron of the bank, and the leader of the Narnians who took refuge in this world, King Brevard, second son of the then High King of Narnia, Jabert the Just. As the pronounced and accepted High King of Narnia you will most likely inherit the vaults and all the assigns.”

“But?” asked Peter

“Well it was a long time ago and we, well, we need to research the rituals needed. You know how it can be.” The goblin looked a little discomfited at having to admit this. He looks down and shuffle parchments on his desk

“Oh yes. It took us two years to find the key to the cellars at Cair Paravel. Still is there a way to provisionally prove our crowns? Just for diplomatic reasons you understand?”

“Well” Garnok said thoughtfully. “We have an updating tapestry for King Brevard's descendants. It was placed in storage centuries ago when the last of his direct descendants passed. If you inherited the Crown as sons of the house, however removed, then you might show up on it.”

“There's a place to start then.” Said Edmund, cheerfully.

A young auror in dusty blue robes leaned in the door and motion the older Auror out. Auror Morton left for a few minutes of hasty discussion.

“Well Majesties. It seems that your mum has done a flit. House is stone cold. Hasn't been used in months they say. We have men tracing her down, but it may be a bit.”

“Bother.” Said Peter. “Well looks like we aren't going home to Finchley at any rate.”

“If I may Lord Peter?” Lord Malfoy asked. “You were found by a group taking children to Hogwarts. While you wait for your... host mother … to be located, why not continue to Hogwarts?”

“That's the magic school correct?” asked Peter

At Malfoys nod he continued “I'm probably to old to start learning there, and with a lordship to look after I probably wont have much time. I'd best find tutors. Is there a village near the school where I can find a house to let while the others are at school? Or is there a Peverell Manor socked away someplace?”

“Yes, the village of Hogsmead. Chances are you own a house there already. Most of the older families do, since travel to the school used to take much longer. Peverell Manor is, sadly no more. I think there’s quite a nice lake in the crater however.”, Lord Malfoy finished.

“A crater, well, I can guess what happened to the rest of the Peverells then. Su? School or work?” Peter turned to her.

“Thank you for asking Peter” Susan said, smiling. “I think I'd better back you up to be the diplomatic one. Tutors for me as well.”

“I'm diplomatic!”, mock objected Peter.

“I know brother. You only nailed one dwarves beard to your desk”, Lucy lowered her teacup and said with her nose wrinkled.

“He WAS waving an axe at me you know.” Peter defended himself. “So. As I was saying. Tutors for Su and I, and you two off to school to terrorize the teachers. Can I send tutors along for them as well? What are the classes like?”, He continued briskly.

“The classes are the main schools of magic.”

“Elementalism, Demonology, Necromancy, Oneiromancy and Enchantments?” asked Edmund

“Aaaah . no. Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, that sort of things.” Lord Malfoy answered.

“Oh. That’s odd. The wizards I read about from Archenland broke the schools up that way. Well it has been some time.” Susan mused.

“Were there no wizards in Narnia?” Malfoy turned to face Susan.

“There were no humans until we came. And none for more than a months travel in any direction in any country except the ones who immigrated in after the Great Plague.”

“Then who did you rule?”

“Everyone else Garnok. Centaurs, dwarves, goblins, fauns, dryads, mer, talking animals, unicorns, dragons. The lot. If it lives in narnia and comprehends the tongue of man, its our subject. Makes for some very complicated feast menus though.”

“We did get some human settlers eventually. Mostly from Archenland and some Calormene.” Lucy added

“And the odd handful of Masongangnese and Gondorians and the like. Mostly traders and travelers, some mercenaries.” Added Edmund

“Generally Hogwarts does not allow personal servants or tutors. But since you are in exceptional circumstance, you may be able to have a tutor brought in for your siblings to catch up to those in their year.” Lord Malfoy said.

“And of course as head of your house you can allow them to visit the town of Hogsmead on approved weekends after their first year.” Garnok pointed out. “The school will be starting in a few days, since the other wizarding children being brought back are staying at a hostel in Diagon Alley, you might join them for the time being.”

“Well I think that will do, the hostel will be handy to the bank at least. I'm presuming its owl carried messages only then?”

“Yes my lord.”

“Then I think I should accept the lordship and get my ring so we can go buy schoolbooks and arrange for suitable tutors. We will need ohh, solicitors, a weapons master and a dance master as well at the least. And probably servants.”

Susan asked almost diffidently “I assume wizarding fashions are very different?”

“Yes Lady Susan.” Lord Malfoy said in long suffering tones.

She smiled at him sweetly. “I don't suppose you have a wife or sister we could borrow for advice during our shopping?” 

Despite himself Lord Malfoy seemed charmed. “I'm sure my wife Esmeraude, would be more than happy to join us.” he said ruefully. “I of course will escort you as well, Lord Peter, there is much to discuss.”

“I'm certain there must be, Lord Malfoy. I know how much work ruling a single castle can be, no matter how small the Peverell holdings are that are left after the crater, it must be a right mess by now.”

“I am most gratified that you speak first of your responsibilities My Lord”, said Garnok.

“You know? I've got out of the habit of thinking about money? Gold was all the dwarves ever tithed in. We had gold everything. Useless stuff. Ed even had a gold chess set. All the gold in the world doesn't help when you have armies marching on three borders. Now a loyal man, that’s worth something.” Peter joked, as they stood.

Lady Esmeraude proved to be a striking bright eyed beauty from France with silky white blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She stood barely to Lord Malfoys shoulder, but all could tell even through his civil masks that he was absolutely smitten with her.

“Lady Suzanne, my wife Lady Esmeraude” Damien presented her grandly.

“Most pleased Lady Esmeraude. My sister Miss Lucinda, and my brothers Lord Peter and Sir Edmund”

Esmeraude grasped Susan’s hands warmly “ I'm so pleased to meet you. Damien tells me you are his long lost cousins, the Peverells?”

Susan smiles “Yes that’s how it seems. Peter is Lord Peverell now. We're all at sixes and sevens!”

“Oh I'm sure! Imagine living as muggles all this time”

“Well not entirely. We've only been back from Narnia for a few weeks now and spent twenty five years there. But still ... we haven't the faintest idea what wizards wear.” Susan said, cocking her head artlessly and smiling her most charming smile.

“A full wardrobe for all four of you?”, Esmeraude nearly clapped her hands in joy “Why Damien, you did get me a birthday present!” she exclaimed.

Damien got a sudden slightly panicked look and then relaxed. “Wait. That's not until next month you minx.”

Esmeraude giggled, and took Susan’s arm in hers. “I'm sure we will be good friends in no time. Now, hems are being worn long this year …..” As she led the party from Gringotts out into Diagon Alley proper.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas took every chance he could to sneak away from the orphanage and stay with his people. Wizards. Even the meanest shop in Nocturne Alley was preferable to the filthy muggle hovel he was forced to live in. He had so hoped by excelling in his studies his first two years that he could convince Dippet to let him stay at the school or in Hogsmeade, but that interfering old fool Dumbledore kept making Dippet send him back to the muggles.

He had been in Obscurus Books half the morning, tucked away in a tiny reading nook behind the bookcases in the History section. He liked this shop, the store owner was too stout to clamber up the narrow staircases to the top floors of the building and so as long as he avoided the shop Wednesdays and Fridays, when the assistant was in, he could linger as long as he pleased. His tiny little corner was hard to find, and he was rarely disturbed, just the way he liked it.

Thomas heard the muffled jangle of the bell on the door as new patrons entered and raised his head from the book he was perusing. “Thaumaturgy for Necromancers ” by Merle Blevins held poised in his hands, so as to not disturb its wealth of loose papers tucked between pages. Alas, they seemed to be simply marking where the author repeated themselves with various caustic comments and Thomas was beginning to think the whole book was a farce. He listened as the footsteps crossed the floor of the store slowly.

This is a game he plays sometimes, to test himself. How much can he determine just from the tread of the customer, the sounds of their clothing and their voice when they spoke to the shopkeeper. You could learn so much just by listening or watching when no one could see you, something he had learned as a child. 

This customer is a man he thinks. He can hear the heavier sound of hard leather boot soles, a little clicky, a little shushy on the smooth wood floors. The street was dry when he came in that morning, so the soles are probably dry. He can hear a rustling sound that is probably robes. A proper wizard then, and not some muggle blow in.

“My Lord Malfoy! How may I help you?”, the shopkeeper says jovially.

Lord Malfoy. This must be Abraxas' father. How … interesting. Thomas is almost tempted to leave his hidey hole to observe Lord Malfoy directly. Abraxas always says he favoured his father, so Thomas can imagine what the Lord must look like. Slim, with a long pointed face and long white blonde hair.

“We're just browsing. Lord Peverell here is going to need to rebuild the family library.” An unmistakeable pureblood lords voice, educated, posh and smooth. Abraxas tries so hard to sound like him, Thomas smiles almost fondly. 'Wait. Lord Peverell? There is another person?' He hasn't made that mistake in ages.

“Thank you, Damien, but I'm just picking up a few things now for my siblings. They're starting Hogwarts in a few days and we need a lot of … supplemental materials. Do you have a History section?” This second Lord sounded very young. He has a smooth even tenor, not quite as posh and drawling as Lord Malfoys but with a note of command in it. 

“The History section is on the mezzanine there, towards the back, just past Theology and Sericulture.”

“Silk farming? You have a whole section on that?”, Lord Peverell seems bemused.

“Oh yes my lord, all the magical silk bearing insects and creatures as well as uses for enchanted muggle silks. Silk carries magic very well as I'm sure your Lordship knows.”

Peverell hmmmes in response, obviously occupied in browsing the shelves downstairs.

A set of footsteps approaches the stairs and is climbing them with a quiet and cautious tread. Thomas leans every so slightly to the right and can just see a sulky mouthed, dark haired boy as he reaches the top of the steps. He is wearing dark shimmering blue gray velvet robes, with a black travel robe and hood over. Very understated. He is also wearing a heavy leather belt with a silver chased dagger sheath and, Thomas guesses, a short sword slid to the back pulling down a bit. That's most unusual, he thinks...you don't see many wizards walking around with weapons other than their wands.

This boy, because this is a boy, not a man, is about Thomas' own age if he has to guess, pauses at the top of the stairs. His dark eyes flicker from side to side, glancing over the window in the back with its heavy bars, to the door of the closet nearby, and then to the wooden railings of the balcony. Noting dangers and exits. What an interesting little Lord.

“So Peter, about that dance master you were looking for...” Lord Malfoy started. Thomas could hear the murmur of both voices in a conversation. Three people? How very strange. And if this isn't the Lord Peverell who is he? Thomas continues to observe him through the narrow gap between books in the shelf between him and the stairwell.

The boy proceeds towards the nearest shelves and is intently reading titles, one hand on his belt and one tucked behind him, obscured by his cloak. His hair is short for a traditional wizard, but his clothing is unmistakable. The sword is strange, but the cloak and robes are very conservative and understated. 'Perhaps a servant or vassal of some sort', Thomas thinks until the boy reaches one hand out to retrieve a tome and Thomas can now see the heavy Heir ring on his hand.

“Seen enough, oh watcher? Or shall I turn so you can have the back view as well?” The boy asks, quietly but with a note of challenge, his snapping dark eyes meeting Thomas's directly in the narrow space between the tops of the books and the shelf.

Tom is shocked, furious and concerned all at once. How long has the boy known he was here?

“I was simply admiring your...” he pauses delicately “dedication to knowledge. 'The Mating Habits of Basilisks' is not for everyone.”

“But basilisks are such charming creatures.”, the boy says grinning wolfishly. “Though I'm hard put to imagine a pair letting any mere human observe them in such an intimate setting.”

“All that danger and power, a very risky thing, basilisks.”, Thomas is intrigued. What an odd boy.

“Perhaps I just like serpents.”, the boy challenged.

“Oh, but everyone knows that snakes are wicked creatures.” Thomas says, repeating whispers he heard in the halls at Hogwarts his voice redolent with sarcasm.

“More wicked than man?” the boy cocks his head. The light picked out a long thin scar on his cheek. It glimmers with just a hint of silver indicating a curse scar of some sort. Already a dueler at his age? Curious and curiouser.

“Few things are more wicked than man, except perhaps an animal with a mans cunning.” Thomas answers. He stands, letting the book fall gently to the floor. This boy is much more interesting than a half baked book on necromancy. 

“Will you reveal yourself, oh snake in the grass?” The boy mocked, and Thomas froze. He could not see the other now, but he could hear him faintly. Just separated by a wall of books. 'He called me a snake'. What does he know?

Thomas takes a breath to respond, when a shout from below interrupts.

“Oi! Silvertongue, quit playing with your food. We have to fetch the girls before they blow the family fortune on fripperies.”, the tenor called out. 

“I didn't rush you when you spent a half hour fondling swords, Petrocles.” The boy half turned his head and called back, grinning.

“Because you were right next to me making lewd promises to the daggers my shadow king. So shift it.” His tenor voice is laughing, yet serious.

The boy looks back at Thomas. “A pity to cut our conversation short, oh my watcher, but I imagine we'll meet at school.”, and turns, and sauntering back down the stairs.

Thomas bolted to the railing, all caution thrown to the winds, but all he can see as the group leaves is a tall, pale blonde man, probably Malfoy, a golden haired younger man with impressive shoulders wearing bold red and the dark hair of 'Silvertongue', before he drew his hood up and they were gone.

“Peverells. How … interesting.” Thomas thought.


	4. Final Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is being discontinued, as I am no longer writing fanfiction. My apologies. These are the remainder of my notes for the story.

The Peverells attend Hogwarts. Peter helps Gringotts research their family and the King who brought wizards to Earth.

Edmund gets sorted to Slytherin, Lucy goes to Hufflepuff. Nobody was surprised.

Edmund and Tom embark on a multi year pigtail pulling friendship-rivalry and much much later end up shagging like weasels.

They do return to Narnia, before the Telmarine invasion, approximately three years after they had vanished from narnia. They stablise the portals, which were found in the Chamber of Secrets. Lucy finally marries Tumnus.

The big secret? Slytherin had found the portal and opened it but became trapped in Narnia. In his animagus form, the great silver basilisk later mentored Edmund.

Godric Gryffindor went to find Slytherin in his lion animagus form, but could not find him. He later opened the portal to try to fulfill the various prophecies by bringing the daughters of eve, etc to narnia. Godric aka Aslan is the one who deaged the Peverells and sent them back.

happy ending - all the magicals and the magical creatures withdrew back to narnia. All the Telmarines and Calormenes were sent back to earth and Peter firmly shut the door behind them.


End file.
